


worshipped at westerburg

by heatherchandler (red_handedjill)



Category: Heathers (1988), Heathers: The Musical - Murphy & O'Keefe
Genre: Cheating, F/F, Implied Childhood Sexual Abuse, Implied/Referenced Underage Drinking, POV Second Person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-04
Updated: 2016-05-04
Packaged: 2018-06-06 08:18:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 563
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6746386
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/red_handedjill/pseuds/heatherchandler
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>but you're not a god or an angel unlike his chiseled marble, so you'll just drag your lips across his jaw and squeeze your eyes shut. for as long as you need, his hands in your hair are hers, gentle and small. it's his turn to get cut on your edges.</p>
            </blockquote>





	worshipped at westerburg

**Author's Note:**

> idk what this is but enjoy the result of me listening to young god n thinking abt what a lesbian heather chandler is n how no one in heathers knows how to have a monogamous n healthy relationship.

is the world spinning or are you? it must be the world, even your mouth feels dizzy with his pressed against it. he's greedy and drunk, sober enough to kiss steadily but still fucking wasted. you'd laugh if his body weight wasn't starting to suffocate you. does he even know you're not his ... _"girlfriend"_ (who he'll never deserve) or whatever they call it?

would he even care?

when he breaks the kiss (too rough too rough), the hazy _wanting_ in his eyes answers that. oh. he stares at you like he might just worship you. (you want him to.) a god among men ( _boys,_ really), kissing up your skin (with lips that should belong to her, lips that taste like what she must) and muttering prayers to you ...

you would kill for that. (only for the lips that heather has touched to grace your skin.)

"well?" you whisper, sure you can't manage anything more without the world falling out of place entirely.

his mouth is rough, hands desperate to your clothes. you don't want this, don't want him. he's harsh and leaves you a wreck when he's drunk, but what else is there to do? it's expected of you (you're _so so easy,_ aren't you?). the god will take what he wants from you and stay, too tired to return to his girlfriend (the one with the hair like the sun and the eyes you would drown in).

are you to defy a god? your name may strike fear but you are a mere queen, not yet powerful enough to spit out a fuck you and pull your socks back up as you stumble out.

it's tempting, pulling at you and whispering, beckoning for you. with the world so dizzy (it isn't just the alcohol), you're almost clouded enough to come to it. but you're not a god or an angel unlike his chiseled marble, so you'll just drag your lips across his jaw and squeeze your eyes shut. for as long as you need, his hands in your hair are hers, gentle and small. it's his turn to get cut on your edges.

that's all there is for you to do. unless you want him to take it by force (he would, he is a god now, not the prince from your childhood) like _the king_ did. the king kurt could've saved you from once.

before he's undressed you, you picture heather, golden curls and bouncing knees and silently held hands. you tell yourself it's a game of dress up, like from your days of innocence, before gods and kings. you can remember her laugh, the day you first let yourself think maybe you wanted a princess. you can remember the feeling of her hands, zipping up a dress for you. heather. heather. heather.

"kurt," you breathe, lips still together as your head spins more and more. you can't say her name, no matter how tightly caught it is between your teeth.

he rips into you and you make _him_ bleed just as much as you will. teeth and nails and anything to hurt him, his marble will crack. for taking her for granted. for taking her from you. for not being the boy you loved. for not being the boy she wants to love. for becoming a god and leaving you a queen.

for not being her when he kisses you.


End file.
